Read Online And Yesterday Is Gone by Dolores Durando - Free Book Online Page A

seemingly unaware of the cold. Her carelessly tied satin robe revealed the naked body beneath. Her mouth was slack, her blue-green eyes nearly closed, and her long auburn hair hung uncombed. The beautifully manicured fingers fumbled with a syringe.
    Carlos cursed, then laughed as he scooped her up as effortlessly as though she were a child and tossed her on the rumpled bed. The ivory- skinned gringa lay like a silken doll—her long-lashed eyes were always half-closed in a dream sleep where he could not intrude. She was always available, accepting, but detached from his reality, rousing herself from her golden sleep only to relocate the position of the needle, then to retreat again to her world.
    Better she and her heroin go back to the city, Carlos thought as he watched her insert the syringe between her painted toes, then close her eyes and turn her back to him and his world.
    He felt rather than heard the door open and turned to see Lupe on the threshold. A blanket flung around her shoulders, her hair wet and clinging to her face, a long, ugly scratch showing red against her cheek.
    â€œI told you not to come back,” Carlos growled.
    â€œCarlos,” she pleaded. “I can’t stay down there. I can’t work with those sheep. I’m terrified of that old ram—someday he’ll come through that fence at me—and the gringo is gone.
    â€œI struggled with one of those strange men all night, but I can’t stop him. He’s so brutal—look at my face.”
    â€œPretend it’s Ollie.” Carlos grinned.
    â€œWhat I’ve done, I’ve done for you,” she answered.
    He gave a short, ugly laugh.
    Desperation overriding her fear, she spoke through clenched teeth, “You murdering son of a bitch.”
    â€œBe careful, woman, you’re a long way from home. Go back to your bunkhouse. Treat that man like you treated Ollie and maybe he won’t hurt you.” He laughed. “You might even break in Juan—he’s old enough to need a woman. He’ll be seventeen soon—almost a man now.”
    â€œA man?” She smiled. “Are you blind? That pretty one, a man?” she asked with derision in her voice.
    Unwittingly, Carlos had given her the only weapon that could hurt him.
    â€œNo woman will ever seduce him. He’ll never give you a grandson. Everyone has seen it but you. Are you afraid to take your blinders off? Ask him how he helped his gringo escape and in your truck,” she goaded, knowing she had drawn blood.
    His face remained totally impassive. He turned his head so the anguish in his eyes would not betray him, the anguish that flooded through his body with every breath he drew.
    Her words finalized in his mind what he had known in his heart, the intuition he had denied for so long.
    She sensed her advantage like an animal that smelled blood.
    â€œYou’ve been gone a long time—there are powerful men who have kept this organization going for you. What will your compadres think of their great El Jefe when your son wants to play house with their manly sons? How much respect will you get then? They will laugh at you behind your back—at their El Jefe whose son is maricón. I will have it better in the bunkhouse.”
    He stood, his back to her, bent like a great gut-shot animal, devastated by her mocking words.
    Turning at last, he spoke slowly and with deliberation. “You’ve made it very clear what I must do. I promise you that man will never bother you again and that ram is a threat that needs to die.”
    He walked to the gun cabinet, chose a thirty-eight revolver, snapped the cylinder out, spun it and saw that it was loaded, then placed it in his waistband. It felt good riding against his belly.
    Lupe walked ahead of him, gloating to herself. “I’ll be out of that bunkhouse tonight.” She pulled the blanket closer and wiped her face with one corner as she lengthened her steps to keep up